[renaisguy]

Trilemma Trickery

Axe +1

[astrasword]

In the face of such genuine cheer, not to mention relief, Ayra cannot help but smile. It’s brief, a quirk of her lips more than anything else, for she is well-aware that there are more challenges to come — but it is a smile, still.

“Yes, well,” she replies, a bemused glint in her eye, “I am not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean.”

Or in the habit of saying things that are superfluous. As such she doesn’t remark that the word they are looking for is dagger. Even the trap isn’t worthy of comment.

With her blood already awakened, a deep breath is all it takes for Forde’s voice to fall away. She has no need of luck, darting between the arrows faster than the eye can follow. Indeed, she doesn’t even stop to breathe.

And yet, when she reaches her goal Ayra is unwearied as well as unharmed, turning her head and calling back:

“Are you both alright?”

@lazulienne, take care.

[lazulienne]

     “Watch out!” Lapis grunts, meeting a fate just like Forde. Though her footwork is fast, it's clearly not as fast as Ayra's, and four arrows find their mark; three cut slits on her skin, one passes through one of her limbs— a mild fortune. Lapis herself takes the rear, following behind her fellow injured soldier, not easing until they're all in the next room.

To Ayra's question, Lapis responds, “This? It's nothing I can't help.” Though she might not be bright in saying so, she does stiffly ignore the slight pricks of pain in her muscles and unhooks her white arm wraps, looking to Forde with one of them.

“Here. You can use this as a tourniquet to help stop the bleeding,” she offers, intent to use her other on her worst of them. As she makes her offer, though, her eyes catch a glimpse of their surroundings at last in her waiting: a room that smells of old paper with wooden floors, scraped to suggest there were might have once been bookcases here.

In their absence, a statue stands before three doors, the statue itself holding a tome in her hand and a bow on her back. She's fashioned not for war despite this, her attire a jacket lined with fur trim over top of a gown Lapis recognizes— a symbol of hope, an outfit she herself has been gifted before...

“Oh! I know this next one! That statue's wearing a Mica gown! Usually it's only busted out for real fancy occasions like a tourney winner's celebration party or a wedding...!!”

How could she ever forget it? She's loud in her proclamation, not thinking of her injury now. Between the triad of doors, they're marked with the symbols of a sword, light magic, and—

“If you face a mage or an archer, you gotta break 'em with arts!”

—the final one, one bearing the sign of gauntlets.

NEXT: @renaisguy or @astrasword !!

[renaisguy]

“Oh, thank you!” Forde grins, taking the cloth from Lapis. He winces as he tightens it around his arm, only slightly less painful than the arrows themselves. He rolls his shoulder a couple times before turning his attention to the statue. 

Luckily Lapis has already solved this one, as Forde would have had no clue. The only question he does have - what the heck are arts? - is answered as soon as he walks up to her. 

“I’ve never heard that one before.” He admits. “But then again, unarmed combat wasn’t really a thing in Renais like it is here.” And he could see some logic in it, if you were punching an archer you were removing the advantages that came with their range. 

“What do you think?” He calls to Ayra, waiting for her before proceeding. If they did end up in another trap, he’d like to watch her attempt first.

@astrasword, shall we?

[renaisguy]

Trilemma Trickery

Axe +1

[renaisguy]

Forde gives Ayra a wave before he follows Lapis through the door, giving her a reassuring smile. “She’ll be fine.” He says, reckoning Ayra’s strong enough to defeat a horde of axe-wielding enemies should they show up. “And so will we!”

As for that horde of lance-wielding foes… they needn’t have drawn their weapons, the corridor they find themselves in is as empty as can be, not a single corner to hide behind between this door and the next. Forde still steps cautiously, but their biggest obstacle is a tiny pile of dirt and a discarded shovel, as if someone gave up on digging a hole two scoops in. 

Through the next door is a moderately-sized ballroom, also free of foes, seemingly made just big enough that the grand staircase wouldn’t look excessive. The door they came out of was one of three, which Forde realises a little slower than he’d like (ie. when Ayra emerges), “Oh, so all three of them lead to corridors.” 

A quick glance into the sword corridor reveals… a bunch of swords hanging from the ceiling. That would make sense. “I suppose the lance door was correct then, good thinking Lapis.” 

With no other exits on this floor, a glance upwards reveals their next ‘foe’, a statue of a wyvern (and presumably a rider) hanging from the ceiling. Forde heads for the stairs. “I reckon this one will have a lance.” He declares. He doubts they’d make the answer lance twice in a row.

@astrasword @lazulienne, this next one should be easy, right?

[astrasword]

Although the knight puts on a smile after her rebuttal, Ayra isn’t blind to the fact her brow furrowed just before — or to the fact that people are frequently intimidated by her. Whether that is the case for Lapis she can’t say, but the possibility remains... and even aside from that, she is so earnest the princess regrets having scoffed.

“You don’t need to worry,” she assures the woman with her usual self-confidence, but it runs more warm than cool. “I can handle myself. Thanks, though. I’ll call if need be.”

She won’t, not least because when she steps through the door there is no horde of enemies. Only axes.

— So that’s how this works.

She watches how they swing once, twice, then focuses on the rhythm of her breath and the pulsing of her heart. She does not think of the Helswath, or of anything else. She listens to the rush of her holy blood, lets it drown out everything but the swish of the axes, and she sees not her targets but the space between them. With every beat of her heart, an axe falls behind her. With every breath she takes, she advances just before the next blade swoops down.

“My path was blocked by swinging axes,” she announces in the same moment she emerges (unscathed, with stars in her eyes and renewed vigor), glancing around the room before fixing her gaze on their next challenge. “— What?”

This last is directed to Forde, let slip while her mind threatens to go down a perilous path; to think of Gungnir is to think of its wielder is to think of a river of blood in the desert — but thankfully her own blood has not quietened yet, and it’s easy to redirect.

“That doesn’t matter,” she puts in, looking between the paths (and once more veering away from the thought of a massacre, this time in the skies of Silesse). “Whatever his weapon, he’s a flier.”

And she heads for the door with a bow.

@lazulienne, any objections?

[lazulienne]

     Peering back through the sword corridor as Forde does, Lapis nods, understanding a bit better what kind of situation they're in now. Traps infest the 'wrong' answers, but if you can get past those, you still proceed on. And indeed, when Ayra shows up soon afterwards, not even a scratch on her, it fills the Brodian with relief.

“Glad you made it out OK, Ayra!” Lapis gives her genuine cheer. “You're just as tough as you say.”

It's impressive, really; maybe Ayra would've fit right in at Brodia! But there's no time to think about that, not when her two allies here are already focused on the next puzzle. Lapis turns her gaze up towards the wyvern and then the three doors beneath.

“Well, you can break a wyvern rider based on what they're wielding... but I don't think I can SEE that either...” Lapis humors Forde, trying to squint back at the statue. Even hopping up, trying to get a better angle, the idea eludes her.

“I guess between the three doors, bow sounds right, yeah! And if we're somehow wrong... well, dodging arrows is easier. Checking knives for poison...” Lapis grimaces before she shakes her head to dismiss the idea. “Wait up, Ayra! I'm heading with you!”

And with that, Lapis chases after the woman. But she takes one look back to Forde first.

“You coming too, Forde?”

NEXT: @renaisguy !!

[renaisguy]

When he sees the options on the doors, Forde nods. He barely takes a second look at the statue before following the others to the bow door, though he does glance at one of the others. “That’s meant to be a knife, is it? I thought it was just a small sword.” 

There’s no hesitation in this round, if you see a flying enemy you shoot it down, right? Right? So why, when they open the bow door so confidently, are they met with a flurry of arrows blocking their path? 

“What?” Forde’s eyes dart back and forth between the door they just went through, the others, and the trap that lies ahead. “Did we just get lucky the first time?” 

He sighs, there’s only one way forward. With good timing, skill, and a bit of luck, one should be able to get by without being hit- “Ow.” -without being hit too many times. “Ow.” 

When he reaches- “Ow.” -the other end of the corridor, he flings the door open. Two arrows in his arm and one in his side, all things considered it could have gone worse. He focuses more on stopping the bleeding than what’s in this next room, hopefully they’ll be able to make some sense out of this one. 

Show us how it’s done, @astrasword

[renaisguy]

Unstoppable force vs movable object

Herald | Reason +1

[renaisguy]

Forde wouldn’t call himself a troublemaker, but he was hardly a model student either. So when he was approached by a member of staff enquiring about how many naps he took, he certainly didn’t expect to receive a “You’re just the person we’re looking for!” upon hearing the answer. 

He was given a basic rundown about potions that enhance physical capabilities (and a few glares when he said they sounded cool), and of an alternative to detention they were testing where troublemakers were paired up with good role models for a week. In other words, he was to take as many naps as he wanted, in the hopes it’d calm this student down. He’d be a fool to refuse. “Nice to meet you, Miss Silvia.” He smiled, holding out his right hand. When the spell was cast, he’d lose use of his dominant hand for a while… hopefully he wouldn’t be needing it too much. “I hope we can have a fun week together.” How bad could it possibly be?  

@silviapirouette

[wolfhednn]

———　( modern au )　how do they feel about enabling location sharing on their phone with their partner? family? close friends?

dash game! reblog and include your muse's answer in the tags!

[renaisguy]

Trilemma Trickery

Axe +1

[astrasword]

Truth be told, Ayra scarcely notices the other woman was caught by surprise at all, too focused on the threat itself to mind her companions overmuch... At least until the knight challenges her directly. She whips her head round, one brow rising in disbelief: not for Lapis’ point itself being a poor one, no, but for the fact that she thinks this worth debating at all when they’ve no evidence one way or the other.

Not to mention, Forde is really too concerned over their splitting up. Can he not see the strategical benefit of it? Ah, but then... He has never seen her in battle. Pity, that; and for a moment she is tempted to simply walk to her chosen door and their protests be damned. Yet they are working together, and so she summons the patience for such needless talk... Even if it’s with a scoff.

“ It could, ” she tells Lapis first, without bite, “ but seeing as we’ve no way to tell and standing around doesn’t help, I made my decision. ”

To Forde, she says only, “ I will go alone. ”

@lazulienne, @renaisguy, good luck.

[lazulienne]

    Lapis had thought they were making progress, but before she knows it, Ayra has made her decision, and any bravado the Brodian had had in pitching her thoughts deflates. Should she have? Worry furrows her brow. She gets the impression Ayra didn't appreciate it or maybe is just being polite in the way she shoots her down, leaving no room for further thought or discussion.

It's far from the first time Lapis has embarrassed herself by opening her big, dumb mouth. She cringes just thinking about the last minute now.

“OK,” she tries to stuff down her growing mortification, putting on a fake smile. “I guess that means you're with me, Forde! But Ayra, if anything happens, be sure to holler to us, yeah? And we'll do the same for you! We still don't know what kind of traps we might be getting into...”

But she hopes it's something all of them can fight their way through— with fists, because Lapis thinks she'll be in trouble if it's with words.

Through the Lance door she goes, but right before she passes the threshold, she looks back towards Forde to make sure he's following, and she casts one glance back to Ayra, watching where she goes too.

NEXT: @renaisguy or @astrasword !!

[renaisguy]

Forde gives Ayra a wave before he follows Lapis through the door, giving her a reassuring smile. “She’ll be fine.” He says, reckoning Ayra’s strong enough to defeat a horde of axe-wielding enemies should they show up. “And so will we!”

As for that horde of lance-wielding foes… they needn’t have drawn their weapons, the corridor they find themselves in is as empty as can be, not a single corner to hide behind between this door and the next. Forde still steps cautiously, but their biggest obstacle is a tiny pile of dirt and a discarded shovel, as if someone gave up on digging a hole two scoops in. 

Through the next door is a moderately-sized ballroom, also free of foes, seemingly made just big enough that the grand staircase wouldn’t look excessive. The door they came out of was one of three, which Forde realises a little slower than he’d like (ie. when Ayra emerges), “Oh, so all three of them lead to corridors.” 

A quick glance into the sword corridor reveals… a bunch of swords hanging from the ceiling. That would make sense. “I suppose the lance door was correct then, good thinking Lapis.” 

With no other exits on this floor, a glance upwards reveals their next ‘foe’, a statue of a wyvern (and presumably a rider) hanging from the ceiling. Forde heads for the stairs. “I reckon this one will have a lance.” He declares. He doubts they’d make the answer lance twice in a row.

@astrasword @lazulienne, this next one should be easy, right?

[heliacalrisings]

canoe even joust?

anniversary 2025 | lance +1

[heliacalrisings]

He should have expected this. Before he can do anything to prevent it, Forde grabs the side of his boat and flips it over, sending him into the water to be greeted by a rush of cold that grips his very bones. Ephraim surfaces and pushes sopping teal hair out of his face to reveal bright eyes and a grin.

"Don't get cold feet just yet," he calls as Forde turns and begins back toward his canoe. Ephraim does the same, needing only a few short powerful strokes until he's at his canoe once more. He climbs in and retrieves his paddle.

Rather than move toward the shore or settle back into his seat, Ephraim stands inside the canoe, legs spread to give himself balance, and holds the paddle at his side in a grip similar to how he would hold a real lance.

Around them, the crowd's cheers grow louder. "Do you hear that," he calls to Forde. "We can't deny the audience a second bout now."

Ephraim levels his 'spear' at Forde. "Come at me!"

[renaisguy]

Forde turns to Ephraim and chuckles, of course he’d want a second round. “Promise you won’t fall over before I get there?” He shakes as much water as he can out of the canoe before flipping it over and jumping in. 

He crouches as he paddles himself over, only rising to his feet when he’s just slightly out of Ephraim’s lance range. Firmly planting his legs apart, he twirls his paddle for show before making that last stroke towards him. 

He follows up with a quick swing into the water, hoping being splashed with water is enough of a distraction to take him out in one clean blow. The paddle becomes more of an axe than a lance as he whacks Ephraim once again. His own canoe wobbles a little, and he’s quick to maintain his balance. 

He laughs once more. “We should do this more often!” If all sparring was like this, he might put a little more effort into his training.

[heliacalrisings]

bros with bows

epidemic || any +1

[heliacalrisings]

Edible weaponry? Ephraim stares in disbelief at the bow. Why in the world did that exist?

"Will that even function properly?"

Ephraim shifts his stance so that Forde can see how he pulls at his bow. he's right handed and uses the same to pull the string until it rests just by his ear. "Pull it with your dominant hand," he tells him. Even if he favors the lance, both his father and Duessel had ensured his competency across the different weapon types.

He lowers his string and reaches for an arrow. "Take a practice shot with that thing before you use it and it breaks under the stress." No, he doesn't trust it.

However, he does laugh at Forde's quip. "In that case, I will endeavor to steer clear of the wall."

[renaisguy]

Forde copies Ephraim’s stance as best as he can, standing side on in case he has any comments. Left hand on the one part of the bow he could actually get a good grip on, right on the string. He takes an arrow and-

“I could have taken arrows shaped like bread to go with this.” He says. “But I thought that might be a bit much.” He pulls the string back until it reaches a comfortable tension, and aims for the wall- 

And completely misses! The arrow instead buries itself in the ground a few metres short of its target. At least it went further than six feet? 

He tests pulling the string again, taking it back to that comfortable tension, then draws it back further, and further, and- wow, he’d barely brought it anywhere the first time. The bow’s more flexible than he was expecting, he was sure he was going to break it. 

“Goes back further than I thought.” He says, releasing the string without an arrow, grinning. “And it’s still intact, don’t think you can find any more excuses not to fight me now.”

[renaisguy]

Is it a bird? Yes

Bow +1

[hoopdaughter]

"IT'S GOT YOUR WHAT?"

Fee's own had charged up a hearty fireballed and cauterized the wound made by her companion. Hearing now that the pair are now down a polearm is more than disheartening, though. The Silessian glances back to the blonde, eyes wide. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU????"

Nonetheless, she tugs at the reins to gather more speed. The chase now firmly on, she's more than happy to be challenged. Annand can more than handle a chud like this! Her mind is still lingering on their weapons predicament. Even with the wind whipping her face, and one hand steering her steed with intensity, she yells back at Forde. "Take my lance! It's better than those piddly arrows!"

The handoff itself would be another problem, especially with the monster creeping up on their tail. She holds it back towards where she hopes he can reach, while trying not to torch poor Annand's side.

[renaisguy]

It’s been ages since Forde’s been yelled at like that, it takes him off guard. He’s half-tempted to throw back some snarky remark, but he’s smart enough to not insult the person controlling this flight. 

“I’LL GET IT BACK, LET ME GET USED TO THIS FIRST!” He can feel his yell fly away in the wind as they soar. His ponytail keeps hitting the back of his head as it gets tossed around, annoying, but something about this battle in the sky gets him fired up. He firmly grasps the offered lance, sweeping it wide to avoid hitting pegasus or rider. 

He turns back to the bird, weapon pointed at it. “This can cast fire spells, right? I’ll see what I can do.” How hard could it be with a target that big? He just needed to focus his energy into the tip of the lance and…

Boom! The monster swerves to dodge, but the spell singes the tip of its wing. It sways to the right, brushing the treetops. 

“It’s off balance!” He says. “Might be a good time to swing back around to get a good shot?”

[renaisguy]

Casual Alphabetical Windowshopping

Heavy armour +1 Challenge (Forde): every word must contain ‘C’, ‘A’ or ‘W’, spoken words must start with ‘C’, ‘A’, ‘W’, in that order Challenge (L’Arachel): every word spoken must be in alphabetical order, speech must be casual

[far-from-common]

fordes tries at talking to others suck. which is a shame, his art does not suck.

“appreciate bravado. cawing-” she motions over her face, trying to imply mask as well as speech “disturbs everyone, forde.”

he knows this already, shes sure. mostly saying it for the letters.

she approaches a friendly looking guy thats mulling over a cat. thats cute. gives the man and cat a wave.

“greetings. hexed im.” she gestures to herself. please understand. “jackass knobhead.” points at the art and hopefully conveys she does not like the guy. “looking man. need off.” she points to the mask.

“please quickly reveal sighting. this upsetting.”

thankfully man seemed to know shopkeeper. he points in a direction.

“Why, just a mere jiffy ago I had laid my eyes on a whippersnapper with quite a similar disposition! The miscreant was sauntering his way over to the inn at the edge of the town! Why, I do hope you catch him, young lass, and give him a good ol’ walloping!”

larachel overjoyed, as best as she can be without it being a pain.

“verily? wonderful.” she opens her mouth to speak and yet once again, nothing comes out

“xylophone” she mutters under breath

“youre zestily amazing.” she gives the man some money in appreciation, before returning to forde. he hopefully saw. if not, she points at direction they need to go and starts walking.

[renaisguy]

We cheer as tweetily as we are accustomed about now. “Caw caw, caw caw! Congratulations! Away we commence, a westwards cowering adversary we can argue with.” We tap mask again, which we will momentarily discard.

We witness a few strangers wearing strange masks about westwards way. Communication falters when we all have strange talking patterns, however we come and create a small party. Disaster certainly awaits malefic salesman now! 

Eventually, we come across creepy carpet, dark cloak, crimson laughs? Stand away, man who switches allies’ adjectives. Trader’s face gapes wide, maybe plans speech? Escape path? Clasps certain mask at rear, take notice, has menacing shape. 

“Chai’ve searched all about!” Says woman speaking alone with ‘Tea’s. “Wicked, herbal man, release weird masks, now!” 

Salesman places clasped mask atop own face. We back away with haste, as dark magic overflows. We draw sword, lance, axe, bow, gauntlets, reason, faith, all weapons acceptable today. Weave about diabolical blows, own attacks fail at weakening salesman. Fierce battle we can’t completely describe. Perhaps L’Arachel can explain?

[renaisguy]

Can love bloom on the battlefield?

Au - Forde/Ephraim

[heliacalrisings]

It is always Forde who reminds him to slow down. Sometimes not even directly, but simply in the way that he approaches life. For as often as he's reminded him to pay attention on the battlefield, just as often Ephraim has taken inspiration from him instead. They both balance him in that way, Forde and Kyle.

He threads his fingers through Forde's and curls his hand around his.

"I would lose my head were it not for you. Unfortunately, this is what I mean about not being able to give you a normal life. As king, these are things I must consider... but I don't have to consider them right now. Or...or any time soon, perhaps."

Is that wishful thinking? He's not sure, but he'll lean into it for now.

He turns his head and gives Forde a side long glance accompanied with a teasing smile. "Were we not going to spend the rest of our life together regardless? Or do you have plans to leave Renais' knighthood?"

His thumb runs over Forde's in idle circles. "I can make that list quite easily, but I'll spare you that for now."

Instead, teal eyes glance up, seeking his gaze. "Tell me, what do couples do?"

It's no doubt a strange topic for the night before the battle against the Demon King, but Ephraim thinks that talking about this will clear his head more than anything else will. He doesn't want to enter such an important battle with his heart weighing any heavier than it has to.

[renaisguy]

“Do I look like an expert on what couples do?” 

Fingers interweaved with Ephraim’s, Forde grasps his hand tenderly. Then lets go, and readjusts his hand into a slightly more comfortable position. He gazes into Ephraim’s beautiful aquamarine eyes, before bringing his hand to his lips for a kiss. Trying not to let his own hand shake. 

“Though I suppose this isn’t a bad start.” 

It’s brief, but it’s enough to make Forde’s heart pound so hard he’s sure Ephraim will hear it. He rubs his thumb over the knuckle he just pressed his lips against. The skin is as rough as he’d expect from someone who trains so diligently. A sign of how lazy he is in comparison, perhaps. 

He takes Ephraim’s other hand, interlocking fingers once again, (it feels like they should start wrestling now). “I think when you court someone you’re meant to take them on a date.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment. Who knows how busy they’d be in the upcoming months, to give them the time to fool around. Even if they were lucky enough to end their long battle tomorrow, there was a long road ahead of them. 

But he could dream. 

He makes eye contact again. “I would like to take you on a long horse ride, and find a beautiful sight that no one’s ever seen before. I’d take a nap, of course, but maybe I’d be able to convince you to join me for once. And when you wake from sweet dreams you’ll find me in the midst of painting a landscape of the scene, to commemorate our time together. Maybe we would have slept so long that we use the stars to guide us home, basking in their beauty.” 

A simple dream, for sure. But one worth chasing.

[pastbelow]

days of innocence

forde + shigure, epidemic (gauntlets+1)

[pastbelow]

"Advice…?" Shigure echoes, pausing to spin his brush absently in one hand. He's never thought about it in depth, but… "Actually, for me, it's probably easier because she's not standing right here. Aside from anatomy practice, I've always drawn faces from memory, or some specific feeling." Or dreams, he doesn't say, instead continuing by dipping into a lighter shade of ink.

In the space the woman is smiling at, the secondary focus of the sketch begins to take shape: a pair of children, a girl gleefully dashing away with a box of chocolate and a boy in avid pursuit. If there's something that could bring a selfless, kind queen more joy than her subjects at play, Shigure's content enough to wait for his client to suggest so. "I can't possibly hope to render her features with complete accuracy, but that's also not what I'm trying to do," he explains carefully, as if figuring out his thoughts as he says them. "I think… it's much more important, for her likeness, that the art captures what she's like as a person."

Hopefully the ink lining her form is dry enough at this point? With a sweep of a larger brush, sky blue, slightly brighter than Shigure's own hair, cascades over her back. If it's the first color Forde had thought to suggest, he'll make sure the rest of the painting complements it. "I mean, Lady Eirika must have asked you, specifically, to paint her portrait for a reason, right?" he asks. "Maybe you could focus less on drawing her face correctly, and more on portraying how you see her, instead."

[renaisguy]

Forde tries to take in Shigure’s words. It seems silly at first, Lady Eirika chose him because of his skill with the brush, and his ability to bring the landscapes he saw to life. And how he sees her is how she is - if he couldn’t capture that smile perfectly, he wouldn’t be happy with the end result… 

But as he watches the scene unfold, there’s a shift in the emotion of the piece. Without a drop of paint touching the lady’s face, her smile evolves. Tender love and care, befitting of his lady.

“Yes, I see! Thank you.” He’s not sure how he can apply this to his own art yet, but it’s a step in the right direction. 

There’s a call for the next chocolate making session to begin, and Forde stands. “Ah, that’s me. Time flies when you’re painting, doesn’t it?” He takes one last look at the card, and grins. “Suppose it’ll need time to dry, I’ll pick it up once I’m done, alright? Lovely meeting you, here’s hoping I can see more of your art in the future.” 

Focusing on how he saw her smile, was it? Maybe the first step would be making chocolates she could smile over…

End

[renaisguy]

Where were you? Some sort of Crazy Noisy Bizarre Town?

Continued from here

[far-from-common]

Sir Forde is… trying. She most certainly appreciates getting to know more about the other missions, at the very least. It may not be enough to dry her tears, but she does find herself feeling a slight bit lighter at all his descriptions; it very much sounds like a world she would have enjoyed finding herself in.

She is very much glad she did not, though.

Before she can say anything on the topic of his world or her world however, Forde hands her one of the flowers from his bouquet and calls her the Orchid (m)’Onarch and it is so silly yet he is so kind and earnest and she cannot stop the tears from spilling again, though this time, they greet a slight smile as they fall.

“You are… you are most kind, Sir Forde. Your words truly, truly mean a lot to me.” She falls silent for a moment, considering what more to say. Eventually, she decides to meet his story with a way shorter one of her own.

“There was one afternoon at the academy, one that I spent quite pleasantly with Ephraim. He did something ridiculous and rash, as one would expect, but it made me realize that for all my… many, many skills and talents, I may be… lacking, when it comes to expressing my gratitude sometimes. So I would like to say to you, Sir Forde, I am glad this academy has let me get to know you better. You are a good man and an even better friend.” She smiles, though her gaze is still downcast. As lovely as all this is, there is still an incessant feeling of discontent in her heart that shall not go away, one that intensifies as her light-up shoes change colour into something a smidge too bright to ignore.

“I would quite appreciate hearing about that worst mission of yours, if you may, Sir Forde. You need not share everything, just a snippet would be quite alright.” She gives him a slightly pleading look. She does not wish to pry too much, but getting to know at least a snippet would…

She is not quite sure, actually, what she thinks shall happen. Shall she feel less lonely? A bit more understood? She is not certain.

But at the very least she would get to know a bit more about a friend, and that has to account for something, surely.

[renaisguy]

(Ridiculous and rash, that was Ephraim to a T wasn’t it? He’d have to ask him about it later.) 

“I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you too.” He smiles. “Back in Magvel, I never would have imagined I’d find myself dancing with a princess, let alone one I called a friend.” The academy has changed him in that regard. When half your classmates and a third of your teachers are nobility, it’s more difficult to keep the respectful distance he always thought he should. 

And he should tell her about the mission, but he feels his throat close up as he tries to find the words. Even if they are friends, that doesn’t mean it’s fine for him to just dump everything on her. He couldn’t even tell Franz or Kyle the truth of why he went missing for so long. If he’s going to tell her anything, he can’t let his mouth get ahead of him. 

“We found ourselves travelling alongside the remnants of a destroyed village.” He begins. “There was a flood, and I’m sure… I’m sure that’s when we appeared. At the time, it felt like we’d been with them much longer, but no matter how much I’ve tried to find memories of it, that has to be when it started.” 

“Then we travelled, tried to find a new home, tried to find food. There was never enough food, I went hungry one week so others could have half of what would keep them nourished. Most of us went hungry, actually. I didn’t mind, as long as the children were fed, but…” 

The children. The less he talked about them the better. 

“I had a dream while I was there - where I was offered all the food I’d ever need. But in exchange I’d have to give up companionship for the rest of my days, and wander the world alone… I said no, of course. But it turned out that everyone had had the same dream. Everyone left in the village had turned down the offer, but some had gone missing. And then…”

“I don’t know what happened. There was a labyrinth, I escaped, and when I found myself back at the academy I found an entire year had passed whilst we were on that mission… but for us it was barely a month.”

“Sometimes I wonder if any of it was real.” He admits. “At the ball, I saw one of the knights I travelled with on that mission for the first time since I escaped. It was a relief, no one from the academy died out there… but the villagers weren’t so lucky.” He swallows. “I watched a woman waste away after both her children perished. But if they weren’t real, none of them would have to suffer.” 

A weak smile. “It must seem terrible. You’re trying so hard to keep your friends’ memories alive, and here I am trying to forget mine.”

[renaisguy]

A Starry Saddle Ride

[contempenitent]

"Apologies," says Mauvier, "but you will learn that relaxing is rather difficult for me. I don't anticipate danger, but it is my duty to always remain vigilant."

The hill that Sir Forde has picked is rather nice. There is plenty of sun and shade both, and the distant pastures are visible from this height. It pulls at something in Mauvier, nostalgic and rooted deep.

Maybe it's the fatigue of the ride or his earlier training settling into his bones, combined with watching Forde lay on his blanket, but Mauvier feels like he could at least spare a few minutes of idle conversation before scouting begins. He pats Primrose's snout, considering the young knight's question.

"I suppose I have a couple of hobbies," Mauvier admits. "I do enjoy sewing, from time to time. But for the most part, I suppose my hobby is my work. It is what fulfills me."

Mauvier gazes out to the pastures again, but that throb in his chest forces him to look away. "How about you, Sir Forde? It can't all be naps with you."

[renaisguy]

“Sewing, eh? That’s nice, have you considered joining the academy’s sewing club?” He asks, gazing up at the man. Never would have guessed. Then again, Forde should know better, seeing that… 

“I paint.” He says, the words coming to him easily. “Mostly landscapes, though I’ve been trying to branch out recently. I was planning to sketch this view after my nap, though if you want something a bit more vigilant I can paint you a map.”

His laughs trail off as he thinks about it. “Guess my hobby is my work too, now I’ve left the knighthood. Never thought about it that way, guess I’ve been having such a good time I didn’t notice…” 

“What do you find so fulfilling about your work, if you don’t mind me asking? Being a knight was good enough for a while but… I don’t think I could do it for the rest of my life.”

[azurelunae]

tea with the queen

[azurelunae]

Their house has become a home. At least so far as the furnishings. A wooden table with matching chairs. A kitchen with tableware — their own! she's washed them! — tucked away. Utensils for cooking — she's used those too! And adjacent to the dining room is an hearth and a set of stairs leads to their room. In truth, the place is a bit dry, not homely. Her and Seth have not had the time to decorate and to be honest, she would not be sure of where to start, or if she should. Their time here is temporary. It feels almost idyllic when she can forget all the duties that weigh upon them both.

It is a far cry from castle Renais in more ways than one. There are no servants to wait on her, no chef to craft their meals, and however eager she has been to tackle these new chores, it has been an adjustment all the same.

Of course, the fun part of having her own home is that she can invite guests over. She practically springs from her seat at the knock on her door and opens it to reveal a familiar face framed with blonde hair.

"Sir Forde! I am so glad you could make it. Come in." She steps back with a smile and gestures for him to enter.

In Renais, there is no knock to answer. The guards handle that duty. The steward greets their guests. These seemingly minuscule tasks are seen as not worthy of her and Ephraim's time. Perhaps that is why she takes such joy in them.

"Please, sit. I have tea brewing." She looks absolutely delighted by this prospect. What it bodes for Forde is a mystery.

—@renaisguy !!

[renaisguy]

“Lady Eirika!” Forde beams as he greets her. “Thank you for inviting me.” He looks around the house, curiously peeking through every open door before he’s seated for tea. 

“Lovely place you’ve got here, makes my dorm room feel tiny in comparison.” When he thinks about hosting a tea party at his place… he’d need to do a lot of cleaning first, how much had he shoved under his bed already? “Reminds me of mine and Franz’s house back in Magvel.”

Oh! And before he forgets, he rummages through his back and presents a box of chocolates, which comes with a painted card - a woman with flowing blue hair and eyes, smiling at a pair of children. “It’s um, not painted by me, it came with the chocolates. I wanted to get you something.” Maybe they’ll go well with the tea. 

“How are you two settling into Fodlan?” His leg bobs as he waits, it feels strange that he’s the one being served here. “Been on any strange missions yet?”

[renaisguy]

Where were you? Some sort of Crazy Noisy Bizarre Town?

Continued from here

[renaisguy]

Silence hangs in the air, whilst Forde ponders what to say. He’s never been good at dealing with crying people, and he doubts a silly sketch would be enough to cheer her up. 

“I’m beginning to think our mirror mission was a romp in comparison to everyone else’s.” He says. “All I really did was entertain various audiences, fight, and entertain various audiences by fighting. It was sort of a competition, but more so us vs whatever the world threw at us than us fighting against each other.” 

If they had been fighting each other… well, the one time he’d tried attacking Ephraim he’d missed completely, but… “There were these badges for sale, the ones you pin to your clothes. They had strange effects, but one of the ones I ended up with amplified my magic power. By a lot.” 

Oh how to describe it… “At the end we were fighting this giant hand. Well, ‘we’, a small group of us, another group was fighting the other hand, the rest were fighting the rest of him-” he’s getting off topic. “And um, when I used (that fake) Ivaldi against the hand, the light was brighter than any spell I’ve been able to cast, before or since. And then another badge made a jingle, a do-do dooo…” 

He looks at L’Arachel again, tears in her eyes. He’s just been rambling on, was this really helping, at all? 

“I um, forgot where I was going with this.” He admits. “It wasn’t my worst mission, I suppose.” He sighs. “I can tell you the story of my worst mission, if you’d like, but I try not to think about it for a reason, haha.” Haha, haaaaa… he’d been reminded of it enough tonight, what with Sir Sigurd and Lianna popping up, and yet another run-in with Azama. 

He takes an orchid from his bouquet, and hands it to her. “It’s not a rose, but you can be the Orchid- orchid, um… the Orchid ‘Onarch instead.” He smiles. “For what it’s worth, I think you have what it takes. You have such a blindingly brilliant smile, and you always strive to protect those around you, I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t admire you.”

@far-from-common

[renaisguy]

Duets by Rossini and waltzes by Strauss

White Heron Cup - Round 1, Match 4

[far-from-common]

All Forde gets from her is a curt nod; she agrees wholeheartedly, of course, but she is far too busy stewing in her own anger to respond.

Anger that is only increased as Flayn is sent out for yet another dance! A second go around! Bah! What for? Flayn's performance was spectacular; even without the clear bias against L'Arachel, she is sure that the girl would have them beat the first time! And that was the weakest of her performances!

Whatever. Whatever. She shall be their little puppet on a string! Dance for their bemusement once more! She shall dance her heart out!

She can keep her emotions in check for just the briefest of moments to give Flayn a small smile and a thumbs up, before all the anger comes flooding back as they step out onto the stage once more.

Forde takes the lead this time, L'Arachel subject to his whim and whimsy; she shall allow him to take charge as she is clearly QUITE BAD AT IT APPARENTLY.

One, two, three, one, two, three; she can commend Sir Forde for how he is moving, more inspired, more grandiose. It is clear she has taught him well!

Alas, the anger she feels is making her struggle with keeping up; flourishes mimicked with less heart behind them, a move or two that she preforms less skillfully than before. She attempts a quick dance move or two from the world of Fortuna in hopes that it shall help bolster their standing, though they lack her usual confidence.

The performance finally ends, and with a bow, she awaits her verdict.

The judges' comments: Dance executed skillfully, though with more mistakes than previously. Whilst the attempts at diverisfying the choreography are commendable, they were sadly ineffective at improving the dance routine, and in fact clashed with the tone of dance. In addition to previously mentioned issues with the outfit, the scornful scowl was quite unprofessional. 13/30

Ah.

Ah, so that is how it is.

So that is how it is.

"So, this is why you had us dance one more? To mock me? To humiliate me?" She yells out in an accusatory tone, finger pointed sternly at the judges.

"'Oh, Flayn's performance was perfect already, but we are not done making fun of Lady L'Arachel, have them dance again!' Is that what this is to you? An excuse to humiliate and belittle?" She goes from a mocking impression to yelling once again.

"Flayn; perfect, you can feel the love. Sir Forde; incredible, if only he did not have a horrid partner! L'Arachel; Why have you even bothered to show up here?" Her body is trembling, fists balled up painfully.

"Have we considered what the outfit may mean? Have we considered any symbolism behind it? Any sort of artistic intent? Any dead friends that it may be honouring? No, let us just call it trash and take away just enough points that she loses!" Her voice is starting to crack; red in the face as she is.

"What do you even want from me? The first performance is too safe, the second performance is too daring, the choreography is stale but the costume too exciting, there is too much joy, too much whimsy, too much human emotion on display!" Each thing she brings up is accompanied by a stomp of the foot, one that makes her light up shoes glow in different patterns and colours.

"If this was all an elaborate plan to ruin my night and shatter my confidence, then good job! You did spectacular." Voice quivering, she quickly turns towards Forde. "I am sorry."

And with that, she makes her grandiosly sad exit off of the dance floor, running away from the whole competition in tears.

[renaisguy]

Oh gods, Forde is uncomfortable. He’d signed up to this competition for a bit of fun, alongside L’Arachel because he thought it’d be fun. He didn’t want to be standing here whilst she yelled at the judges, airing out every tiny grievance. 

He glances backstage, looking for the first opportunity to leave the public’s view. It’d be wrong to just walk away from her now, it’d be wrong to try and drag her off stage with him (not that he thought she’d let him). The mood has soured so much that even the best of his jokes wouldn’t ease the tension. Not that he’s able to think of any good jokes right now. 

L’Arachel runs off in tears after apologising to him. It’d be wrong to not chase after her. 

“Hey, L’Arachel!” 

End

[renaisguy]

Duets by Rossini and waltzes by Strauss

White Heron Cup - Round 1, Match 4

[far-from-common]

It is time for the shining star to take centre stage! She has prepared for dance meticulously! She has faith in her partner! There is no way they shall fail!

Though, in the off-chance they DO fail, there are definitely far worse opponents to fall to than one of her cave exploring companions. Giving her a nod and a thumbs up, L’Arachel is quick to move out to the dance floor, excited to showcase her skills.

Forde leads them out, but L’Arachel takes charge masterfully. With a giddy smile on her face, she leads them in a lovely waltz; the simple rhythm enhanced by various dips and twirls, moments where she showcases her individuality with grace and poise.

Each step executed flawlessly of course

The performance finishes and she gives several grand bows to the audience and the judges. Looking up, expecting to see a perfect 30 points, she is instead stunned to see… less than that.

The judges’ comments: Dance executed masterfully, although the choreography felt uninspired and lacking in unity. Awful and garish outfit, like the cheerful demeanour, is unfit for the tone presented. 19/30

Awful outfit? Uninspired choreography? How dare. How dare! She shall be the bigger moment, but this indignancy shall NOT go unforgotten! She gives a polite curtsy towards the judges, before returning back to the sidelines, her nails digging into her hands with how tightly they are balled together in anger.

@cotharach

[cotharach]

When Flayn takes to the stage, taking up center all by herself, she realizes how little she can actually see the audience. The big spotlight is trained onto her, filling her eyes with a light that obscures everything else. Her shoulders relax. The thought of looking up and seeing countless eyes staring back at her had rattled her. But there is nothing but whiteness in front of her now.

The piano plays its first note. Flayn lifts her arms, and her dance begins.

She is most accustomed to the waltz—not the best thing to dance by herself, but she makes it work. Taking the position of the lead, Flayn dances with an imaginary partner whose height shifts quite a bit, but is nevertheless constantly in her caress. She twists herself to and fro, her heels scuffing against the wooden grain of the stage.

The music ends. Flayn curtsies towards the audience and makes her exit.

The judges' comments: Though it is clear that the dancer is amateur, her natural charms sell the waltz. The choreography pairs well with the music, though it's clear she struggles without a partner. 19/30.

Flayn reads this while seated. She hums—a partner?

Glancing down, she fixates on the white hyacinth she had tucked into her belt. A partner...

"Sorry dancers," A woman with a clipboard enters backstage, "the judges would like to see you dance again."

"Again?" Flayn blinks out of her trance. She turns Forde and L'Arachel, then rises to her feet, "Alright, I'll have another go."

She pushes past the curtains and takes her place, feet planted atop the 'X' marked on the stage. Flayn takes a deep breath. The piano plays its first note, and she once again lifts her arms and takes her step to the side.

This time, she pictures a certain someone as she dances—someone with a certain height, a certain gait, a certain hand. Memories of a sunlit pond and a fish hook delicately wrung from her hair dance at the edges of her vision, and a warmth courses through her veins.

The dance finishes. Flayn curtsies, like she had before, though this time she notices how much sweatier she seems to be.

The judges' comments: The execution has not improved much, but the dancer's emotions have been brought to the forefront, building up the image of a sweet and lovestruck girl. 22/30

Flayn's eyes widen. She hadn't expected to score so high. The woman with the clipboard asks Forde and L'Arachel to exit, and as she does, Flayn waves at them.

"Best of luck, you two!"

@renaisguy @far-from-common

[renaisguy]

L’Arachel lost points for her outfit? Forde looks around, it doesn’t seem like any of the other competitors changed specially for the competition, why should she have to? “If anything, they should give us points for the matching shirts.” He sighs, after waving Flayn off for her second performance. 

A second performance that visibly improves from the first, but in ways Forde can’t describe until he hears the judge’s commentary. Far more emotional, enhancing the music instead of just performing alongside it. 

He gives Flayn a second round of applause as she returns backstage. “Excellent work!” He grins, before patting his cheeks and plastering a serious look on his face. “Are you ready, L’ara-” ooo, if looks could kill… 

“Let me lead you properly this time.” He declares as they step onto the dancefloor. No smiles to save him this time, he has to dance with real confidence. He takes more risks in his dance, extra flourishes when the music intensifies. He wouldn’t say his performance is emotional, he’s putting too much brainpower into his steps to think about that. But perhaps that stoicism is what the music calls for. 

After the final notes fade away, he takes a bow, exhausted. 

The judges’ comments: A wider variety of skills without a decline in precision. He seems to have put much more thought into the tone of his performance, excellent work. 25/30

Surely not. When they said he hadn’t declined, it was because his precision was barely there to begin with. Perhaps they were simply rating him so highly because his partner was skewing their curve. 

He glances at L’Arachel. He absolutely cannot voice that last thought out loud. 

@far-from-common